


Crowd the Space

by zeleanorfics



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, a bunch of kissing/sexual games they play basically, perrie is only mentioned and shows up in one chapter face to face thats it, technically louis and eleanor are dating but nothing happens between them in the story, zeleanor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3254447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeleanorfics/pseuds/zeleanorfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Party games can get risky sometimes, and habits can form all too easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spin The Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> I read a series about two people obsessed with playing "chicken" together on Tumblr and decided to do it with Zeleanor and more than just the game of chicken.

On the night of November 20th 2014 the whole of One Direction had invited a bunch of people over to Louis and Harry's house for some sort of celebration break during the "busy season". So as Louis had called it when he told Eleanor about it on the phone, not less than two hours ago.

It was a large flat, and Louis said that space wouldn't be an issue, which obviously led Eleanor to think that this couldn't be a small group of people. Of course she hadn't expected to walk into some lame birthday party look alike situation, nor had she expected it to be a damn rave.

But, the ground beneath her pulsed more and more the closer she got to the door. She has a feeling she’s about to regret not bringing Louis an extra bottle or something. 

She pushed her boyfriend’s door open, the back of it smacking something. She stares in the room momentarily, when Louis told her “just some close mates,” she expected 30 some people. This place was packed to the brim. She shoves her way inside, apologizing to the man she hit with the door on accident moments earlier.

How do they all even know this many people. Fifty bucks chimes they can’t name all of them. She can feel the music bounce off of every person in this room, and the energy is practically making her buzz. Or maybe the bass is making her literally buzz a bit.

She moves through the flat at a slow, comfortable pace, sneaking drinks all the way through. By the time she reaches the living room she’s feeling tipsy and positively happy. She needed a break from doing career preparations, and filling out job applications.

She looks into the living room, and sees a group of people surrounding the coffee table. Some on the couch, some circled around it on the floor, legs folded in. She notices the group includes Louis, Harry, and Zayn. The other’s Eleanor was not so familiar with, though she might’ve seen a couple of them once or twice.

She inched closer, flicking her long strands of hair behind her shoulder, and away from her drink. She glances at the table to see what they’re all so interested in, and she sees an empty Vodka bottle spinning around in a continuous circle.

They’re fucking playing Spin The Bottle and Eleanor can't help but laugh. It bubbles up from her throat and she can’t stop giggling. She strides around to the front of the couch and covers her mouth, catching Louis’ attention.

Louis’ eyes light up and he jumps up from the couch, his hair bouncing. “El!” He shouts, grabbing her by her free hand and pulling her next to him. He pecks her mouth sweetly, smiling at her afterwards. “Hi Louis.” She speaks, hoping she doesn’t sound all blurry and tipsy yet. She hasn’t even been here all that long.

“Wanna play babe?” He asks in a loud shout over the music, “It’s fun!” He adds on, pulling her down on the couch next to him. She smushes herself in between Louis and Zayn, her knees hitting Zayn’s on accident. “Sorry.” She mumbles to him as he scoots his leg away. Yikes.

She focuses her attention back on the bottle, which has just stopped spinning. Its neck is pointed towards a petite blonde woman, Eleanor is pretty sure her name is Karley, but she’s not one hundred percent sure this is even the same girl she’s met before.

The woman smiles so wide it looks like the halves of her face are fighting and trying to split apart. Louis chuckles and lurches forward, his body pointing towards the blonde girl. They meet halfway and Louis pecks her on the mouth quickly, making everyone else “boo” him. 

Clearly he did it for Eleanor’s sake, though she wouldn’t especially care if he made out with the girl. Eleanor sips on her drink some more as the blonde spins the bottle for her turn. Everyone watches on with a drunken smile as the bottle turns around and around. 

Eleanor has to stop watching it for a second, the spinning motion makes her stomach knot. The bottle halted again, squeaking to a stop against the table. Everyone simultaneously follows the bottles direction, all of their eyes landing on Harry. 

Harry laughs, watching the blonde’s expression. This woman is shaking with joy like she’s just won a fucking radio contest. Where did she come from? Whose friend is this? Nonetheless harry reaches across the table and grabs her face with both of his hands, pulling her face against his, their lips meeting.

Some people laugh, and others groan. It’s all very comical to Eleanor really. This was a good idea. Eleanor doesn’t even need to kiss anyone to have fun, everyone else interacting is funny enough. She downs the rest of her drink, and sets the cup down on the floor, next to her and Louis’ feet.

Harry and the girl pull apart with a wet, smacking sound. Once again, very comical. Eleanor fake gags as Harry wipes lingering spit off of his mouth. “Gross!” Eleanor squeaks, lifting her leg up, and draping it across Louis’ lap to kick Harry in the side.

Harry grips her leg and glares at her menacingly, making Eleanor laugh louder. “Kick me again I’ll snog the shit out of you.” He “threatens” and tosses her leg back with a smile. Louis smacks Harry’s arm playfully, and looks at Eleanor. “I’ll protect you babe!” “Same goes for you Lou.” Harry warns, spinning the bottle with a wink.

Eleanor’s decision to come tonight was a wonderful decision after all. Harry’s bottle lands on Zayn. And everyone howls with laughter, especially Louis. His body shakes with it, racking the couch so everyone on it can feel it shake. “Pucker up Zayn!” Harry shouts over all the sounds around them. His smile is just devilish.

Eleanor leans back completely, her back flush against the couch now. She motions for Harry to go for it. Zayn shakes his head with a smile and nods, beckoning Harry over. Harry spreads his arms out, wiggling his fingers to be purposely creepy.

Zayn rolls his dark eyes, smiling wide and grabbing Harry by the wrists and pulling him in finally for a quick, chaste kiss. Eleanor laughs and moves her head to the other side, trying to keep Harry’s hair out of her eyes. Everyone around them cheers, all smiles as they pull apart. Zayn scoffs, sitting forward and twirling the bottle around, watching it with a smile.

Eleanor had really enjoyed this little game so far…up until this point, obviously. Zayn’s spin stopping on her was not a good thing. Eleanor has known a little secret for a while now about Zayn, and that not-so-secret is the fact that Zayn doesn’t like Eleanor. Every single time since the first day they met Zayn has just not liked her. 

It’s clearly not her looks but how could it be her personality? She’s kind of hilarious, and kind! At least so she’s been told, she’s not bragging or anything. She can’t help but chance a sideways glance at him. She actually fully expects him to spit on her or something else just as equally mean. When she spoke to Louis about it, Louis said he didn’t see anything weird. But she swears Zayn gives her dirty looks when she’s not looking.

Surprisingly Zayn’s turned his body towards her almost completely, his hands still stiff on his lap though. She forgets how to kiss for a moment, and just watches Zayn lean towards her. He gets dangerously close before she finally remembers how to use her brain.

Something clicks together and she moves forward the last inch or two to close the gap between them, connecting them at their mouths. She wonders if his hair carries static electricity with him because she feels a shock, almost like her lips were tazed, and it makes her want to pull back, she doesn’t though.

Zayn moves his lips against hers slowly, testing waters. Eleanor reciprocates, moving her mouth against his as well, their lips dryly sliding together. Time freezes and Zayn’s mouth is irritatingly warm. She feels his mouth open slightly, his breath hot against her mouth. She doesn’t know why everything is in slow motion but suddenly she feels her skin crawling, spider nerves dancing on her flesh.

She can feel everything with hypersensitivity. She feels Zayn breathe against her harshly, she feels a hand come up and touch the skin somewhere on her throat, pulling on tiny strands of her hair by accident. She feels herself tilt slightly to the right, getting a strange angle.

She can feel Louis’ eyes on them burning through the back of her skull, she can suddenly hear everyone screaming happily on surround sound. She yanks herself back, and wonders what the fuck just happened. She feels like she was having some weird, out of body trance. Like, that wasn’t just her. Like it was a spirit or something vaguely supernatural.

She meets Zayn’s eyes, only for a split second and they share a weird silent understanding. An understanding that it was a game and all has returned to its original balance. Even if it doesn’t feel the same a minute ago. She watches him wipe his mouth off, and she does the same almost immediately, sliding her arm across her lips. Ridding herself of him. So to speak, obviously.

She turns back to her original position to get a look at Louis instead. He’s smiling and laughing along with everyone else. “Watch out Lou, I heard Zayn has stolen someone’s girlfriend with just a wink.” A man from across the table shouts, and the jokes continue, Louis laughing along.

Eleanor stands up, not looking down at the bottle, she doesn’t want to play anymore. “I’m done. I’m gonna get another drink.” She yells at Louis, hoping he’ll listen to her, stop listening to everyone poke fun. “See, she’s done now! She knows no one could beat Zayn!” Harry shouts, pointing up at Eleanor after adding his own little bit.

Eleanor’s legs trembled with anger. She didn’t dare look at Zayn. She couldn’t stand this feeling of being made a joke of. Nothing fucking happened. It was a game of spin the fucking bottle. What was so funny?

Louis met Eleanor’s stare finally, and nodded at her. “Okay? Everything alright?” He asks, starting to stand up. No! Her eyes widen, and she sticks her thin arms out, keeping him in his seat. “Yes! I’m fine, I’m just thirsty- I mean, I just want a drink.” She squints her eyes closed in momentary frustration. Could she have made her sentence any worse for herself?

She steps backwards, spinning around and stumbling over something and almost landing on her face. A pair of arms are pushed out and she can feel them cradle her from behind. She wants to punch herself in the throat because if you gave her three guesses on who it was she could get it in one.

She sighs, and straightens herself up, brushing off her skinnies. “Sorry.” She speaks to him for the second time tonight and she can't stand herself. How dare she be such a fucking idiot? She wonders how deep Zayn’s bad side is because she’s already on the far end she feels like.

She takes a couple steps towards the kitchen, pushing through some people. “You stepped on my foot.” She hears right behind her, and it makes her stop. She spins around, hair flying around her, and landing back on her shoulders like it never left. “What?” She asks, looking at him. She can’t help but notice small things about him.

She notices that they’re the same height, and that he’s got a chest tattoo that she can see through his exceptionally thin TShirt. “You stepped on my shoe.” He says again, the same blank look on his face he wore but not ten seconds ago when they pulled apart. “Oh.” She speaks. It’s a very lame response, but it’s all she can think of. She looks down, her hands keeping hair out of her eyes so she can see. 

She’s noticed that she’s wearing heels, and that it probably pierced his fucking foot through his shoe, and she’s a dumbass. She meets his eyes again. “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to, or anything, you know.” She explains, her voice returning to normal at the end. 

It’s just Zayn? She’s spoken to him before? What the fuck is she being a pussy for? All they did was kiss because of a game. The more she thinks this mantra in her head the more of herself returns. “It didn’t hurt. Just wanted to let you know.” He replies, and it’s all cool and calm. Very Zayn-ish. She wants to fucking hit him.

He slides past her, heading towards the kitchen, and Eleanor heads straight for the door. Fuck this party. She showed up, she hung out with Louis, he saw her, she can leave now. She’s entitled to leave now, honestly.

~

“You should’ve called me! You were too drunk to fucking drive home, Eleanor!” Louis shouts, hugging Eleanor tightly. She nuzzles into his neck tiredly, smelling him. “I was fiiiine, I assure you.” She tells him with a fond look on her face. She can't help it, he was worried about her, its sweet!

“Louis, Simon wants you.” She turns, and she can't help but roll her eyes at Zayn. She has to act like he still annoys her. She has to keep reassuring herself that he does in fact hate her, and that she’s overreacting about the kiss for nothing. Lani told her that kisses at parties are supposed to feel sloppy and real, and that he would've kissed anyone just the same. It made her feel completely better. 

Louis pecks Eleanor cheek softly, his lips slightly chapped and a little cold form the low temperature. “Take her to the back room?” Louis asks Zayn, and it’s completely rhetorical because he doesn’t wait for an answer, just makes his way down the narrow, bland colored hallway, following the direction Zayn came in.

Zayn takes the first step forward and walks past her, just expecting her to follow. They walk in silence for a few steps, Eleanor watching her feet as they walk. “I got you a drink but when I went back you left, so I drank it. Hope you don’t mind.” He spoke, his tone actually not angry or piercing. He glances in her direction, their eyes meet for a moment. His are empty, Eleanor could be trying to read an empty white board for fucks sake.

She scoffs, and tries to remember how to keep a light tone. A joking tone, or something. “Nope. Not at all.” She replies casually, even tacking on a smile. A completely and utterly forced smile, but a smile nonetheless. And Zayn’s neutral look dissipates. It’s annoyed now. Lines on his forehead, and a frown on his face. 

Eleanor hopes it’s not because her forced smile looks like someone punched her in the face, or like she was trying to act snotty or anything. Well, she kind of was trying to act snotty, but she didn't want it to show, obviously.

“So...” He begins again, and she’s vaguely wondering why he’s trying to make a conversation still? Not trying to be rude, but they have nothing to talk about, even if he is just trying to be polite. 

“Are you coming to Stan’s party next weekend?” He asks, looking over at her before stopping at some large, metal double doors. And behind it is most likely the “back room”. She looks around for a second before looking at him directly. “Uh, yeah. Got him a gift and everything.” She answers, nodding in confirmation. She’s thinks Zayn would know that Eleanor is friends with Stan. He is Louis’ best friend after all, and she is his girlfriend, she wouldn’t still be here if Stan didn’t like her.

“I didn’t. I have no clue what he likes. I probably will just get him a card and put a bunch of cash in it.” He pushes the door open for Eleanor, and lets it fall closed as he walks away, thinking Eleanor had walked through already, not even looking back. Eleanor nods to herself and thinks; “What a brilliant idea. Stan loves money”.

She walks through the door with another forced smile.


	2. Guess Who?

“Stan told me he didn’t want anything but I got him some new football cleats anyways.” Eleanor shouts, twirling the curling iron around her last strand of unstyled hair. Louis shoves the bathroom door open again, the door smacking against the tiled wall, his mouth agape dramatically.

“No fucking way, I literally got him some last fucking weekend.” “Well he told me he broke his!” Eleanor shouted, abandoning her curling iron in the porcelain sink. “He did why do you think I got him new ones!” He yelled back a loud laugh following suit.

Eleanor groans, “Oh my god! Why didn’t you wait till his party and tell me beforehand! When you said you already got him something I thought it would be something different!” She shrieks, suddenly very worried over her gift.

“Should I tell him before I get there? Should I pick something else up?” She asks, reaching for her phone, and opening Stan’s contact up immediately. Louis snatches her phone from her, scratching her on accident. “No! Shut up! Don’t ruin his gift surprise! He might want the extra pair.”

And even though she knows that’s a very possible situation, she still feels stupid as all hell. Louis’ face distracts her though. Her nose crinkles, and she shoves his face playfully. “You need to shave, you’re all stubbly.” He rolls his eyes, pushing her face back in return. “Shush, my facial hair is like a blooming flower. Too delicate to kill.” He turns his nose up, and strides out of the bathroom, his ass swaying.

Eleanor scoffs and pulls the iron’s cord from the wall, not wanting to set fire to her flat while she’s gone. That would not be a wonderful end to this night.

“Oh lovely lady, home owner of this magnificent flat are you ready to venture off into the night of Stanley’s birth?” Louis shouts, even though Eleanor is only two steps behind him, flicking every light switch off on the way, because Louis can't turn a fucking light off to save his life.

She smiles though, nodding her head eagerly. “Oh why yes I am!” She shouts in a happy tone. She’s very excited to go out tonight. This will be the second week she’s been out on a Friday night. It feels good to be out and about on weekends again. Makes her feel better about not doing work instead. Well, almost. The next day it doesn’t make her feel good at all. Knowing work could’ve been done the night before so that day wouldn’t be so hectic.

But tonight was not the night for talking about that shit. She sighed, and lifted a mental weight from her shoulders, a smile replacing her frown. Louis ran a finger in between her eyebrows, smoothing out the skin there. “No wrinkles.” He said with a smile, and grabbed her hand, holding it in his. “Let’s go annoy Stan.” He said and Eleanor nodded, following him out of the door.

~

“Tommo! Calder!” Stan shouted, throwing his door open in a flourish. As per-usual, honestly. “Stanley!” Louis shouted, dropping Eleanor’s hand and opening his arms out wide, giving Stan a bone crushing hug. Eleanor loves seeing Louis with his friends, lets her know he’s got an outlet.

“That better be mine!” Stan shouted, pointing at Eleanor’s gift after letting Louis go. Eleanor scoffed, “Please, this is my carrying gift. I carry it around to let people know I’m important.” She spoke confidently, walking past him and into his flat.

She squealed, feeling Stan lift her up, preventing her from walking farther away. “Oh no Calder! Cough it up, let it go!” He commands, shaking her, trying to get her to drop the gift.

“Okay! Okay! Put me down you prick!” She yells back, taking in a breath after being set down. He folds his arms over his chest and cocks a hip out, his and Louis’ classic stance. Meaning (usually), ‘give me what I want’.

Eleanor shoved the gift at him, Stan taking it in pure delight. “I love it already babe!” He shouts, planting a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek, him and Louis laughing about it immediately after. “Didn’t Zayn do that last week?” Louis asks, turning to Eleanor, him and Stan breaking out into another loud fit.

Eleanor rolls her eyes, smile falling off of her face. Why does Louis find that so fucking funny? “God, I need a drink already.” She groans, Stan and Louis laughing at that as well. They find everything just so fucking hilarious. It’s getting ridiculous.

“Hey El!” Stan shouts, and it’s his fucking birthday so Eleanor just has to comply. She spins around, looking at him warily. She knows this is going to be something stupid. She can physically feel it. “The booze is up your ass and to the left!” And he’s shouted the end of the joke, him and Louis too far gone to not find it funny.

“Jesus Christ.” Eleanor mumbles, trying to hide her smile from them so she doesn’t encourage them any further. She walks towards Stan’s kitchen, seeing a bunch of his friends spread around everywhere. 

“Eleanoooor!” She hears a man shout, and she turns around only to be dragged into a rough hug. She hugs back without seeing who it is. Mostly due to the fact that she’s being suffocated by him.

When they pull apart and she sees Harry she scoffs, shoving him away, and pinching his nipple at the same time. “Ouch! Stop!” He shouts, grabbing her wrist and pushing her hand away from him. “Look at me trying to greet you nice, and you twist my nipple!” He yelps, rubbing his ‘bruised’ nipple.

She rolls her eyes, “You call trying to suffocate me ‘nice’?” She asks, flicking him on the elbow. “I was not-“ “Shut up Harry.” Eleanor turns at the sound of a new voice to the conversation. “Zayn I would appreciate it if you were nice to me right now my nipple is painfully injured.” He said, pouting at Zayn.

“Mine too. Anyways, Eleanor.” Zayn starts, looking over at her, a bored look in his eyes. Makes Eleanor wanna fucking punch him. In a “I don’t care” kind of way, obviously. “What?” she asks, looking towards the drinks. She really wants one right now.

“I have Stan’s gift, card thing. Can you give him it? I can't find him.” And no Eleanor is not going to say “he’s right over there by the door still talking to Louis”, she’s going to take this card, and do something nice for Zayn. Not in a false hope that he won’t hate her anymore or anything. It’s just to be a nice person.

She takes it immediately as he hands it out to her. “Thanks.” He says, walking towards the kitchen, before turning back around quickly, his jacket swishing around him. “Oh, do you want a drink?” He asks, pointing back at them. She nods, “Yeah, anything strong.” 

She makes her way back towards Stan, him and Louis talking with a group of Stan’s other friends, having a very loud laugh. “Here you go Stanley. From Zayn.” She speaks up, handing him the envelope. Stan takes it with a devilish smirk. “Ah! Zayn delivering the dough, once again! What a life this is!” He yelps, waving the envelope around in the air.

Eleanor chuckles, “Tell him I said I love him!” “Will do.” She replies, making her way back towards Harry and Zayn. Zayn hands her a drink, with some random clear liquid in it but she downs it anyways, her throat pleasantly burning with it afterwards. Tastes beautifully.

“Said he loves you for pulling out the money.” She tells him, looking up at him, and setting her drink down on the counter behind them. He nods, looking at her for a second before coughing and drinking his own drink awkwardly.

“Well, I’m gonna go over here.” Zayn mumbled, brushing past her and walking over to the other side of the room, mingling in with some people. “I don’t care what you do.” She mumbles to herself, pouring herself another drink. She’s good at that.

Tonight was going by extremely fast, and by one in the morning there was only about eleven of them left. All of them were slung over some piece of furniture. Eleanor couldn't even spell "drunk" right now.

Eleanors eyes pried themselves open, watching Louis plop down on Stan's floor. "Lets play duck duck goose!" He yelled, spreading his limbs out like a starfish. Almost everyone groaned. "No running. I'll puke everywhere." Harry replied, tossing a pillow at Louis' stomach.

"Lets play "Guess Who?"!" Stan yelled back, finding the energy to stand up and look at everyone. "Yeah!" Stan's friend Molly yelled, joining him and standing up. 

"What...the fuck is Guess Who?" Louis asks, sitting up and using his arms as stands to keep him up. "It's like Heads Up 7 Up, but you have to guess who kissed you instead of who tapped you." He explains, walking towards his room. "Hold on!" He yelled as an only explanation.

Louis stood back up, stretching his arms out and yawning. "I wanna play this game and win." He announced, watching Stan come back in, some ties in his hands.

"Ooh, kinky." Louis smiles, snatching one from his friend. "Half of us are blindfolded so we don't know whose kissing us and the other half are the smoochers! Last smoocher standing wins!" 

Eleanor doesn't know how, but Stan gets everyone standing. Six people blindfolded and five people not. Eleanor, being one of the blindfolded, obviously. She's not risking purposely kissing someone and having her liquor breath all over them.

"Ready...go!" Someone yells, probably Stan, and the Eleanor tightens her "blindfold" swaying unconsciously. She can't help but smile, hearing everyone giggle and squeal with joy. 

Eleanor would say she wouldn't mind if she wasn't kissed, but she is. She feels lips press against hers, and she knows it's a man. His stubble scratches against her chin and cheeks. 

Eleanor deepens the kiss unconsciously, swaying into him and sliding her lips over his, the drag of it giving her goosebumps.

She breathes in through her nose, involuntarily whining as he pulls back. She felt like she was kissing Louis for a second. Which would make sense because Louis is one of the "kissers", and obviously he would pick Eleanor.

"Blindfolds down!" Stan screams, his voice cracking at the end. Eleanor yanks her tie down, leaving it hanging on her neck. She folds her arms, across her chest, Louis' avoiding her eye contact very obviously. Got em.

"Okay, Danielle you were not kissed, so sit down." The girl pouts and plops down on the couch, crossing her legs in a diva manner. "Okay, Calder, you guess first." Stan says, pointing at Eleanor. "Louis." She states in such a manner that she cannot even seem wrong.

"Nope!" Louis yells, popping the p with a victory laugh. "What?!" Eleanor screeches, everyone laughing, and moving on to the next person. There's no way it wasn't Louis. Well, also, Louis did say he wanted to win. And if you wanted to win you wouldn't pick someone so obvious.

Eleanor huffed, and yanks her tie back up, covering her eyes in defeat. "Monica!" Someone shouts and 'Monica' groans in defeat, clearly figured out. 

"Zayn?" Someone asks, and then groans aftwerwards, clearly it wasn't Zayn. Which makes Eleanor think.

Zayn's the only other man up there with as much stubble as Louis. Not that it matters if Zayn was the one who kissed her, it's just a game. Once again, it's a fucking game. Zayn probably just picked her because he knew she wouldn't guess him. He wanted to win. It was smart.

The second round made Eleanor want to die. She stood blindfolded, her eyes closed anyways, just because of the darkness, and then she's kissed. And by the same person. 

She feels the same warm lips against hers, and the same scratchy stubble poking her in the face. And the worst part is that she wants to kiss him back, and she wants to win, but she doesn't want to guess him.

Just saying his name for all to hear as an official guess would be mortifying. What if she was wrong (she knows she's not, obviously)?

He pulled off of her mouth after a couple seconds of Eleanors mouth flat lining, doing nothing. She couldn't help but smile, and like not in a good way either. In an insane, "what's happening" nervous kind of way.

When it was her turn she guessed Stan, even though she knew it wasn't him, and watched Zayn's mouth twitch. Downwards, into a frown, not a smile.

Which would've been shocking if Zayn didn't usually frown. Or make a face other than a smile around Eleanor. So, not shockingly ground breaking or anything.

The next round a different set of lips hit her, they were much smaller, and cooler than the last ones had been, so cool she felt like someone was smushing ice cream against her lips. 

She took her blindfold off after and scanned the three kissers left. Louis, Zayn, and a girl named Carrie. She thinks Stan went to school with her or something. "Carrie?" She asked, her voice curious, but it was clearly her.

She laughed, "How did you know? Was it because I didn't have a beard?" Eleanor nodded, laughing with her, watching her stand with the blindfolded. This game was not fun anymore. It stressed Eleanor out.

And Zayn ended up winning, and Louis threw such a big fit about it of course.

~

Eleanor stumbled up to her flat door, key sliding around in her hand, Louis and Zayn in tow. "He can sleep on your couch, it's just Zayn!", Louis said. "He won't be any trouble!", Louis said.

Eleanor couldn't say no. She wasn't going to make him go all the way home at two in the morning when she lived only a mile or two from Stan's. He was Louis' band mate after all. She knew he wouldn't cause trouble or shit like that.

She threw her door open, Louis pushing past her immediately. "I call toilet!" He shouts, padding towards the restroom like a toddler. She rolls her eyes and suppresses a groan. 

She turns to Zayn and points at the couch, "There's your room." She mumbles, and makes her way to the linen closet, pulling a thin blanket out for Zayn to sleep with.

She turns, expecting Zayn to be in the same spot, but in her drunken state she catches on too late, tossing the blanket to no one, and it lands on her floor with a soft thud.

She looks around, pushing her hair back and taking in a shallow breath. She sees the top of Zayn's hair on the couch, and she walks over there for some reason, kicking the blanket over as well, leaving it in front of his feet.

She looks him over, watching his eyes close and his chest rise and fall slowly. She sighs, plopping down in the spot next to him, not caring if he cares. Its her house anyways.

She leans her head back, laying it against the cushion. She almost falls asleep before she hears a voice. "It was me." Her eyes reopen, and she turns her head, hair covering half of her face regardless.

"What?" She asks, watching him very very closely. He turned his head to look at her as well. "Guess Who. I kissed you." He says, clarifying. She watches him yawn. She laughs, and it's soft yet a little uncontrollable. 

He starts laughing too, though neither of them know why, but his eyes are glazed over and his mouth turns up, making his eyes crinkle with joy. It's undeniably adorable.

"Why'd you kiss me twice in a row?" She asks, still giggling. This laugh is just intoxicating. She can't stop. He breathes heavily, not laughing anymore. 

"I don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They aren't going to all be group games I swear, I just needed an easy transition into personal time


	3. Never Have I Ever

A throbbing pain in every part of her body from her head to her thighs wakes her up the next afternoon. Everything inside of her aches. When she told Stan to get strong alcohol he wasn’t fucking around.

She groans, rubbing a hand over her temple, which ended up being a mistake, because her hands were sweaty, and clammy, and positively disgusting. She cringed, thrusting her hand far away from her face. “Ew, what the hell.” She moaned, turning on her side, and kicking her blankets off of her, and off of the bed completely.

She looks around, wiping sweat from the nape of her neck. “Isn’t it fucking winter?” She asks to no one in particular. Which, by the way, where is Louis? She stands up slowly, letting her muscles stretch out, her knees popping at the movement. She walks out of her room, stumbling over the discarded blanket on the way out.

“Eleanor where the fuck is your tea?!” Louis shouts, standing on his tippy-toes in her kitchen and rummaging through her cabinets. Eleanor scoffs, “I’ve been out of tea for three weeks now Louis.” She says, grabbing a cup from her counter, and running it under her faucet, getting some water to drink instead.

“What?! How?!” He asks, looking at her like she’s barking mad. She shrugs, sipping her water. “Just have. Been busy.” It’s not like tea was a necessity. When she ran out of toilet paper she would go to the store, not for tea. That would take too much time and effort. 

She watches Louis pout and look through more of her stuff while scowering the area around her, trying to find the source of the loud breathing sound. Her face scrunches up, “Did I get a dog or something?” She asks, and Louis barks out a laugh, zero puns intended.

“No, Zayn is just a loud sleep breather. At least it’s not snoring.” He supplies, and Eleanor watches him slip on his shoes. She totally forgot about Zayn being here. Not like it was an issue or anything, it was just weird. Weird to think about Zayn just casually sleeping on her couch.

Zayn is turning out to just be weird. Not like Eleanor knows him that well or anything, but what recent events have shown, things are just weird around here. “Where are you going?” She asks, watching Louis pick up her car keys and pocket them, heading for the door. “Store? Obviously. You’ve got no Yorkshire. I can’t be in a hell like that, and then back to mine to get dressed and shower and all that yada yada yada, and then I’ll be back.” 

He leans forward, pecking her softly on the mouth and she pulls back, wincing. “Ew Louis, I have morning breath.” She mumbles, wiping her mouth off, and heading towards the bathroom. He scoffs and leaves her flat, door closing behind him.

She closes the bathroom door and sighs, leaning against the sink. She pulls her toothpaste out from the cabinet and starts brushing her teeth, riding herself of the filth of whatever the fuck she drank last night. She needed to get rid of the disgusting sour flavor in her mouth. It felt like dry vomit. Disgusting.

She spits the rest of the spit-diluted toothpaste from her mouth and washed her brush off, setting it to the side afterwards. She sighs, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, keeping it from her face.

A knock on her bathroom door makes her jump, she grabs her heart and sighs, fear leaving her body. She momentarily forgot she wasn’t alone. Zayn was still here. Once again, not like it was a problem or anything.

“Yes?” She asks, pulling the door open. Zayn’s standing there with fucking disheveled hair, and sleepy eyes, and he looks warm and what the fuck. “Sorry, but I think I’m gonna be sick.” He mumbles, and Eleanor steps out of the way so fast it’s not even funny. “Go, go, go.” She commands, stepping out of the toilet all together.

Zayn crouches over the toilet, and blows out his brains, he lurches and just can't stop. It disgusting. Its’ like a car wreck, Eleanor can't not watch. He leans against the toilet afterwards, putting all of his weight on it. “Do you have aspirin?” He asks, his voice all scruffy.

She scrunches her nose, because, no she doesn’t have aspirin. She never has fucking aspirin. Which, this is the fifth time something like this has happened at her house, and she should really invest in some. The only she does for a hangover herself is sleep it off or drink some more. No point in taking medicine for it, it never worked for Eleanor.

“No, I do not, sorry, but I could call Louis, and tell him to pick some up? He’s going to the store later anyways.” She asks him, playing with her hands while doing it. She’s quite nervous right now for some reason. He shakes his head and stands back up, flushing her toilet while doing so.

She wants to help, she feels bad for him being ill. He washes his hands with some of Eleanor’s ‘Ocean Breeze’ scented soap, which is ironic because it smells more like vanilla than it does the ocean. “But, I could give you a homemade remedy if you’d like?” She questions, already heading for the kitchen anyways.

It’s already noon, so she might as well start drinking again. She uses a small stepstool to reach a bottle of Jack Daniels sat on top of the cereal cabinet. “Jack Daniels?” He asks, watching her closely with scared eyes. “You’re mental, but okay.” He shrugs it off, grabbing a glass off of her counter.

She scoffs, grabbing a glass for herself and following a sleepy, and sick Zayn into her living room. She sets the bottle and glass down on the coffee table before grabbing a cushion from her sofa, and placing it on the floor for her to sit on. Zayn copies her, and uses the remote to turn the T.V on, some sitcom playing.

“Ew.” He complains, switching stations immediately. She smiles at him before pouring some of the whisky in his glass. She sips her own, and watches him continue to switch T.V channels before finally settling on NCIS, which isn’t a bad choice. Eleanor thinks she and Zayn might not be so different after all. 

And she knows this for sure as he swigs his drink just as fast as she had. It’s all a beautiful sight really. Louis would never ever drink with her like this before the sun went down. Louis’ not a hard day drinker. A beer or two on game days maybe, but never whisky.

They sat drinking, and watching the T.V for a couple minutes, Eleanor watching the characters chat with a blank look on her face, and Zayn pouring them both some more drinks with the same expression. Eleanor’s head hits the empty couch seat, and she groans, catching Zayn’s attention. He’s looking better already. Eleanor’s “home remedy” wasn’t such a bad idea after all it seems.

“I’m bored.” She moans, bringing her glass up to her lips again, letting the whisky burn her tongue a bit before swallowing it. “Wanna play a game?” He asks, his eyes happy, unlike ten minutes before when he was puking in her toilet. The atmosphere between them is different. Not different from a bit ago, but different from a week ago, from yesterday. Different than the way it’s always been between them. She doesn’t feel like Zayn wants to stab her in the face.

She smiles back, the liquor on her tongue still. “Yeah.” He smiles again, and fills both of their glasses back up. “Okay, let’s play “Never Have I Ever”.” He suggests, and Eleanor plays this game a lot with Lani and Max when they’ve got nothing else to do so it only makes sense to play it now. She shrugs, a grin still on her face. She can’t help but be happy that Zayn doesn’t hate her. Maybe he never did, but still, this is a good thing.

“Okay!” She replies in full, taking her glass in her hand, preparing for the game to start. “Whoever finishes theirs first is the loser.” He clarifies, still smiling at her. “What does the winner get? What’s our wager?” She asks, her competitive side reigning through, even though it’s just a game of Never Have I Ever. “How about…whoever wins gets to text someone from the losers phone whatever they want?” He asks, challenging Eleanor.

She says yes to that obviously. She’s up for anything when a chance to embarrass someone else is involved. “Okay then, I’ll go first,” He starts, swirling his glass around thinking of a question. “Never Have I Ever, laughed so hard I peed.” He says, and Eleanor sputters, laughing and almost choking on her spit. She sighs, and takes a sip of defeat. “This sucks.” She mumbles, and Zayn starts laughing.

“Okay, Never Have I Ever, lied to get laid.” She says, watching him. He scoffs, “Please Eleanor I’m rich.” He says, and they laugh together. It makes Eleanor feel good when he laughs with her, makes her feel like this is actually working. Though, she does need to get her game-face on, she doesn’t wanna lose this.

“Never Have I Ever walked in on my parents fucking.” “Oh my god!” She squeals, watching him take a sip. “Ew, Zayn!” She shoves him away, laughing. “What the fuck!” He yells, grabbing her wrist, “It wasn’t on purpose!” She rolls her eyes, watching him like he’s insane. 

She pulls her hand back, “Never Have I Ever, had sex in front of other people.” “Does a camera count?” He asks, and she scoffs at him, “Hardly.” He smiles, “Then I’m home free. Um… Never Have I Ever, masturbated at someone else’s house.” Eleanor sighs and drops her head into her hand, trying to hide taking a sip.

“Eleanor!” He shouts, kicking her playfully. “Not my fault! When you spend a whole summer at a friend’s house in high school you have no choice Zayn! No choice!” She yells back, her tone light yet defensive. He folds his legs back up and shakes his head at her. “You’re vile.”

“Never Have I Ever, cried during sex.”

“Never Have I Ever, had anal.”

“Never Have I Ever, Skype sexed.”

“Never Have I Ever, given a foot job.”

“Never Have I Ever, taken someone’s virginity.”

It went on like this for a while, most of them jokes, and some of them shocking, most just shockingly hilarious (like Zayn drinking after “Never have I Ever, flashed someone”). Zayn’s cup was a little closer to the bottom than Eleanor’s was, and she was feeling quite proud of herself. Zayn on the other hand didn’t look like he was going to give up soon. Eleanor hadn’t learned about Zayn being competitive up until this point, it was great.

“Your turn broody.” She tells him, smacking his knee lightly. And it wasn’t her fault she was getting touchy, she felt like they were connecting, and she was absolutely pissed. Not her fault. “Broody?” He asks, lips cocking up into a smirky sort of thing. It was disgustingly attractive to say the least.

She rolls her eyes so dramatically she thinks they might fall from her head. She shoves him back by his shoulder, and she laughs. “Yeah, you’re a brood, that’s all you do. Now, your turn! Go!” she whines, dragging out the end of her sentence. He groans, sitting back up. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Chicken! You just don’t want to lose!” She accuses him further by making weird chicken noises, and opening and closing her fingers together in her left hand to mimic a chicken’s beak. It was stupid looking but she didn’t care, she wanted her point to get across.

He smacks her hand down, “Okay! I am not a chicken! How about, Never Have I Ever… kissed my best friends girlfriend!” He yells, and he downs the rest of his drink, despite him having a couple sips left for the game. He tosses the glass on the couch, making sure it doesn’t shatter, and he plops down on his back, kicking his legs up into Eleanor’s lap.

She can feel her face heat up, and she’s suddenly very self-conscious of everything right now. She sets her drink back down on the table not touching it, and looking down at Zayn. “Stop talking about that, everyone keeps talking about that.” She tells him, trying to push his legs off of her. He huffs, and sits back up, his legs still in her lap despite Eleanor’s efforts.

“If you can’t stop thinking about something sometimes you have to talk about it.” He tells her, his voiced hush down into a whisper, and the atmosphere has switched between them again. They went from Silly Drunk to something else drunk very fast, and she can’t understand why.

“You’re too drunk right now.” She tell him, sitting up on her haunches instead, sliding his legs off of her, finally. “Shut up Eleanor, I’m a grown fucking man, I know how I feel even when I’m pissed.” He tells her, rolling his eyes at her like she’s an idiot. 

“Zayn I know you hate me! So stop thinking about that stupid kiss I didn’t mean to make it worse between us, it was just Spin The Bottle!” She yells, and not even understanding that the impression she’s getting from this conversation is all, all wrong.

“You’ve always been so annoying.” He tells her, and she wants to yell at him, call him an asshole for being so fucking rude to her when they were doing so fine before, she just doesn’t have the chance. He leans forward and grabs her by her forearms with both hands, and pulls her down on top of him.

She lays on him for a second, trying to get her heart to stop beating so hard against his chest, afraid it’s going to give her nerves away. She pulls her arms from his grip, and places them at his sides, hoisting herself up, hovering over him still. She wants to tell herself not to freak out, not to overthink things, but what the fuck could she be overthinking right now? What’s blatantly happening is happening.

She wants to smack his hands away from her, wants to want them to stop touching, wants to keep them away from her sides. She wants him to stop making her want this. She wants to not be so drunk. She wants to go back in time and just call Louis for that aspirin instead. “Home remedies”? Could she get any fucking dumber?

But she doesn’t. She doesn’t stop him from making his way all the way up her sides, and all the way in her hair. She doesn’t stop him from pulling her down, her arms giving out completely, so she cradles his shoulders with them instead, clearly, getting dumber.

“Can I kiss you?” And you would think Zayn would be the one to ask something so fucking stupid, but Eleanor just gets worse and worse every second, apparently. He nods, his hair poking her in the forehead when he does it, they’re so close. She copies him and leaves her mouth slightly agape, their hot air mixing together.

“Eleanor…” He mumbles, and that’s the last she hears before just fucking going in for it. This kiss is very different from the others they’ve shared. Their tongues press together, meeting with an intense heat.

She squirms on top of him, his hands tugging into her hair, yanking on it just enough to give her the chills. He groans in her mouth, their lips dragging together, so slow it’s painful. It’s painfully intimate for this being Eleanor and Zayn. She had expected it to be rough, and this was a different kind of rough she hadn’t been planning for (though God knows she shouldn’t have been planning anything for Zayn).

Their chests press against the others with every intake of air. Zayn’s tongue licks its way into her mouth instead, caressing the roof of her mouth in the filthiest way imaginable. She whines, letting him move one of his hands down her body, untangling itself from her ruined ponytail.

Though the T.V was playing in the background already, an outside sound brings Eleanor from this, this awful moment. Her phone makes a loud ringing sound from the kitchen, and she could tell you who’s calling without looking. She uses her hands to shove herself from him, hopping up and sprinting towards the phone, her breath staggered and she’s basically panting.

She holds it in her hand for a couple seconds before pressing the answer button. “Hi Louis!” She yells, trying to cover her harsh breathing with joy. False, disgusting, misleading, joy. “Hey babe, I’m on my way back, the door unlocked for me please!” He chimes, a song from his car playing so loud Eleanor can hear every word of it. “Okay baby! Door is officially unlocked!” She tells him, looking over at her door, seeing she never even locked it when he left.

“Love you.” “Love you more!” She responds, hanging up on him, and slamming the phone down on the counter, and she can just hear the cracking. She breathes heavily, anxiety taking control of her whole body. “No no no no no.” She mumbles to herself, yanking her hand through her hair, snapping her hair tie out in the process.

“I’m leaving.” Zayn announces form somewhere in the room, and she can hear him putting shoes on. She doesn’t say anything, she just stares into her kitchen, debating on whether or not to look at her phone now, or to save it for later. “You’re car’s not here.” She speaks, and she speaks a little too late, because she hears her door slam shut.

And if the word “fucked” could describe only one thing it would describe Eleanor.


End file.
